


The One More Leap Job

by tablelamp



Category: Leverage, Quantum Leap
Genre: Bodyswap, Crossover, Gen, Heist, Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2020-10-20 15:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20677703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/pseuds/tablelamp
Summary: As the blue haze slowly began to dissipate and reveal the world around Sam, a woman's voice asked, "Nate, are you all right?"At least he wouldn't have to work too hard to learn his name this time.  "I think so."  Sam realized he was lying on his back on the floor, and tried to sit up.  "What happened?""I don't wanna say that was a pratfall," said a young man holding a laptop who was sitting on a nearby couch, "but they could've put that in as 'the agony of defeat' right there."





	1. Chapter 1

As the blue haze slowly began to dissipate and reveal the world around Sam, a woman's voice asked, "Nate, are you all right?"

At least he wouldn't have to work too hard to learn his name this time. "I think so." Sam realized he was lying on his back on the floor, and tried to sit up. "What happened?"

"I don't wanna say that was a pratfall," said a young man holding a laptop who was sitting on a nearby couch, "but they could've put that in as 'the agony of defeat' right there."

"Oh," Sam said. He didn't have a clue what any of that meant. "Okay."

A woman with dark hair and dark eyes--the woman who'd asked if he was all right before--touched his arm, still looking worried. "You're sure you're all right?"

Sam didn't have enough information to know who this woman might be to Nate--sister, girlfriend, co-worker--so he gave her what he hoped was a warm smile. "I'm fine."

The woman leaned in closer and said very quietly, "You're not drinking again?"

Well, that was a question Sam had no way of answering. "No, I don't think so."

That answer definitely didn't satisfy the woman, who opened her mouth to say something else, but another man with long hair who was standing nearby interrupted. "He's fine. Can we get on with this?" He held out a hand, Sam took it, and the other man helped him easily to his feet. He was stronger than he looked, and he already looked pretty strong.

The long-haired man and the dark-haired woman sat on the couch beside Laptop Man and a young woman eating a bowl of cereal. Sam sat on the couch too, but from the stares he got from everyone else, that was the wrong thing to do.

"You were going to tell us about Houseman College?" the dark-haired woman prompted, looking more worried than ever.

"Oh," Sam said, standing up to face them. Great. This was like performing in a play where he didn't know his lines, which he seemed to remember had also happened to him. "Okay. Houseman College." Sam didn't remember ever hearing about that college before. Who was Nate, what did he have to do with the college, and who were these people he was talking to about it? Where was Al when you needed him? Sam looked at the video screens behind him, then back at the four increasingly bewildered people on the couch. "Houseman College." He cleared his throat, and then said under his breath, "Oh boy."


	2. Chapter 2

The blue haze cleared to reveal more blue. Nate glanced from side to side, but it wasn't a mistake or an illusion--the room really was that blue. He was lying down, although not on the floor, where he'd expected to find himself. He seemed to be on some kind of bed.

So. Speed chess time. What were the options? He'd either been kidnapped or he was seeing this setting some other way--hypnosis maybe, although Nate didn't think he'd be susceptible to hypnosis. Then again, people always thought that, didn't they? Either way, it might be safer not to say too much to start with--just listen to what was going on around him. Nate let his gaze unfocus and his face relax so that he looked as though he were staring vacantly into space.

Someone Nate didn't recognize took his pulse, then set his hand down and leaned into his field of vision. Nate managed to look at her without tracking her with his eyes. She was tall and calm--a therapist, if Nate had to guess. "Hello. I know you're probably confused right now, but I promise, we'll explain everything. My name is Dr. Verbena Beeks. Can you tell me your name?"

Nate didn't respond. They didn't know who he was. That could either be very good or very bad. He wasn't taking Dr. Beeks's medical credentials at face value, either--he'd claimed to be both a doctor and a lawyer without a license to practice either medicine or law.

Dr. Beeks frowned, then turned away. "How's neural activity?"

"Normal," someone said from across the room. In keeping with his current plan, Nate didn't move his head or eyes to look or give any indication that he'd heard. So, either some kind of medical office or someplace they wanted him to believe was a medical office. Constantly expecting to be conned was sometimes exhausting, but he didn't want to fail to consider an important possibility this early in the game.

Dr. Beeks shook her head. "No response to external stimuli. Shock, maybe? Could we have pulled someone out just after a traumatic incident?"

"It's happened before," said the man across the room.

The two of them were acting as though this was a normal conversation, so they were used to what was happening here and knew what it was, even if he didn't. Pulled someone out of what? Nate couldn't imagine that he could've been physically taken from a room in front of Parker, Hardison, Eliot, and Sophie without at least one physical fight and two attempts to steal him back. Had the odd blueness been a taser of some kind? He didn't feel as terrible now as he usually felt after being tased, though he admitted to himself ruefully that it was sad he had a basis for comparison.

"Anything from Ziggy?" Dr. Beeks asked.

"Not yet. She's still trying to find Sam." The man across the room crossed to Nate; he turned out to be short, with a friendly expression and a mustache. He looked down at Nate with concern. "You think we should get Al?"

Dr. Beeks shook her head. "I'm not sure what he can do at this point. If whoever this is doesn't regain full consciousness, it's going to be much harder for Al to guide Sam."

Okay. So they needed Nate's expertise for something--for someone named Al to help someone named Sam, whoever they both were. Nate wondered if this was another rival team, running some kind of con. If that was the case, he was reluctantly impressed with their complicated method of getting his attention, though he would've preferred if they had just asked for his help. Although it did raise the question, how could these people know his expertise would be useful if they didn't know who he was?

Uh-oh. He was gonna sneeze. So much for pretending to be in shock.

As Nate sneezed, he realized he had about ten seconds to decide how he was going to play this. The people here expected him to be confused and not to know them, and they expected to have to tell him where he was. But they also seemed to expect honest answers from him about who he was, maybe to help this Sam person. Nate hadn't quite figured out yet how both could be true, but there were a few things he could think of to test the boundaries. He blinked a few times, sniffling a little.

Dr. Beeks looked relieved. "Hello." Behind her, the mustachioed man retreated quietly.

Nate smiled pleasantly at her. If most people were panicked or confused by where they were, he'd be neither. "Hi."

Dr. Beeks frowned slightly. "You must be wondering where you are."

"Not really," Nate said, looking around. An explanation might've been helpful, assuming it was an honest one, but the opportunity to throw Dr. Beeks off-balance could potentially tell him more about the situation. "It's nice, though."

"What do you mean?" Dr. Beeks asked. "Have you been here before?"

If she was going to feed him answers, this was going to be way too easy. "I don't know. Maybe."

"That's a first," Dr. Beeks said. "We've never had someone remember a leap before."

A leap? "Well, I don't exactly remember," Nate hedged.

"I'm not surprised," Dr. Beeks said. "Can you tell us your name and what year it is?"

Uh-uh, not so fast. "Of course. My name is--" Nate cut himself off sharply, frowning as though something had surprised him.

"I promise, you're safe here," Dr. Beeks said.

Sure he was. "It's not that." Nate pretended to concentrate for a moment, then shook his head and looked at Dr. Beeks, feigning dismay. "I don't remember my name. I don't remember anything."

Dr. Beeks stared at Nate, worried and surprised. Then she turned back across the room. "Gooshie, change the parameters of Ziggy's search for Sam. Have her go through everyone we've already met from past leaps." There was that word again, leap. It clearly meant something to these people that it didn't mean to Nate. And 'everyone we've already met'--did they bring people in here on a regular basis? That would explain why Dr. Beeks seemed to have a routine in place, but it still didn't make sense that they would kidnap strangers and then ask for their help. Nate was missing something, some key piece of information that would make sense of all this.

"You got it," the man with the mustache said. Gooshie, Dr. Beeks, Al, and Sam. Only four. Nate could remember four names, and they might come in handy later.

Dr. Beeks turned back to Nate. "Don't worry. We'll figure out who you are."

Nate didn't think they would, but he was willing to let them try.


	3. Chapter 3

"Um, Nate, if you want, I can start," said Laptop Guy. He looked at Sam as if asking his permission, and Sam nodded. Laptop Guy typed a series of commands very rapidly, and the screens behind Sam filled with pictures and information, including several images of the same man. "This is Charles Kingsfield, the CEO of Houseman College, which is a for-profit school with offices just outside Boston."

"Yeah, I see their ads all the time," Long-Haired Guy said with a nod. Sam wasn't sure if Long-Haired Guy really didn't like Houseman College or if he always scowled like that.

Laptop Guy nodded. "A big chunk of their budget goes to advertising. And it's paid off. They've had an increase in the number of registered students every year."

"Our client, Sara, was one of those students," Dark-Haired Woman said. "She was approached by Houseman's representatives at a job fair, where they told her their graduates did very well on the job market."

"That's all part of Houseman's marketing strategy," Laptop Guy said. "They promote themselves most in places where people who are out of work or down on their luck tend to be." Sam really wished that these people would start calling each other by name so he'd know what to call at least a few of them.

"If the people they're recruiting don't have any money, how can they afford school?" Cereal Woman asked. 

Sam knew the answer to this one, and he thought he understood the rhythm of the group's conversation enough to join in. "They encourage the students to take out loans to fund their education. The students don't have to pay out of pocket and the school gets paid."

"But the students only realize what they've got into after they graduate," Dark-Haired Woman said. "Suddenly they have loads of debt they have to pay back and no better chance of getting a job than they did before they earned the degree. That's what happened to Sara."

"Yeah, the job placement rates Houseman's putting out are, uh, suspicious to say the least," Laptop Guy said, pulling up a spreadsheet on the computer screen containing his calculations beside the college's officially released employment numbers. Sam could see the real numbers were substantially less positive. "Kingsfield once said he didn't care what happened to Houseman's students as long as there were lots of them and they paid their bills on time."

"I'm surprised the students haven't sued," Cereal Woman said. 

"They can't sue, Parker," Laptop Guy said. Finally, a name, Sam thought. "To enroll at Houseman, they had to sign a contract with an arbitration clause saying any problem they might have with the college gets resolved by someone chosen by the college. Three guesses how that turns out."

"So what does Sara want?" Long-Haired Guy asked.

"She wants us to stop Houseman College from doing to anyone else what they did to her," Dark-Haired Woman said.

All four of the others turned to look expectantly at Sam. Sam looked back at them. He had the uneasy feeling that they were waiting for him to say something, but since he didn't know what it was, he stayed quiet.

"Are you gonna say it or what?" Laptop Guy said after what felt like a ten-year pause.

Sam managed a smile. "You can say it this time."

Laptop Guy looked delighted. "For real?"

Sam nodded.

"Okay, everybody," Laptop Guy said. "Let's go steal a college!" He held up his hand to high-five Long-Haired Guy, who gave him an irritated look. "Eliot? No? Sophie?" He leaned over to try to high-five Dark-Haired Woman, aka Sophie, who had already stood up. Parker looked at Laptop Guy for a moment, then gave him a high-five. Laptop Guy leaned back with a satisfied grin.

Sam was trying to figure out how exactly anyone could steal a college when Sophie approached him. "Can I talk to you a minute?"

Uh-oh. "Uh, sure. What are we talking about?"

Sophie gestured with her head that she wanted to talk in private. Sam knew that sometimes it took a while for Ziggy (and by extension, Al) to find him, but this seemed to be a particularly terrible time to be without Al's knowledge of the future. Clearly this group of people had some kind of history, and Sam was very aware that he had no idea what that history was. He hoped he'd be able to fake it.

Sophie followed Sam into the hall outside the apartment (office? Sam wasn't sure) they'd just been in. "I want you to be very honest with me, because I'll know if you're lying."

Sam hoped that wasn't true. "Okay."

Sophie leaned in very close. "Who are you and what did you do with Nate?"

Sam almost recoiled in shock. "What?"

"I'm not surprised you fooled the others," Sophie said. "There was no chance for you to change places." She looked at him thoughtfully, clearly mulling something over in her mind. "It was Nate in front of us a moment ago, until he fell. Then his vocal patterns and mannerisms completely changed. What are you, some sort of hypnosis or mental programming?"

So he looked like Nate--whoever Nate was--to Sophie, but she'd still figured out it wasn't him. How had she done that? And what was he supposed to say? She'd told him to tell her the truth; should he? "Uh, no, not exactly."

Sophie continued to look at him as though he were a puzzle she had to put together. "But you are someone else."

Sam sighed. There was no good solution; either he lied to her and took the risk that she might find out he was lying, or he told her the truth and took the risk that she wouldn't believe him. He'd lied to people before, of course, but in this situation, it didn't seem like the best option. For all he knew, one of the key parts of this leap would be getting her to trust him. If she was observant enough to know he wasn't Nate even though he looked exactly like him, Sam didn't like his chances of getting by with a lie. "My name is Sam Beckett."

Sophie raised her eyebrows. "Sam. And what are you doing here?"

"I don't know yet."

Sophie didn't look impressed by that answer. "You don't."

"No." How was he ever going to explain this? "You won't believe it even if I tell you the truth."

Sophie crossed her arms and said nothing, waiting for an explanation.

Sam sighed. "I'm involved in a top-secret research project. I...appear in situations where I'm supposed to fix things."

Sophie nodded, her expression giving away nothing. "And how is it that you look exactly like him?"

"That's how this works," Sam said, the sinking feeling in his stomach telling him that she would never believe him. "When I appear, I look like the person I'm replacing. But Nate's safe, he's okay! He's just...in my lab...looking like me. He'll come back when I've done what I'm supposed to do."

"But you don't know what you're supposed to do."

Not only was his story unconvincing, Sam knew his way of telling it wasn't doing him any favors either. "No. Normally my coworker...appears...and tells me."

Sophie nodded. "And who does he look like?"

"Nobody. Well, himself, I guess. He's a hologram only I can see."

"So you're waiting for a hologram that only you can see to appear to tell you what to do here so you can do it and stop pretending to be Nate." Sophie's matter-of-fact tone of voice made the story sound even more ridiculous.

"Yeah," Sam said, wondering how long it would be before she called the police.

Sophie took another long look at him. "And you really believe this."

"I know how it sounds," Sam said, "but you told me to tell you the truth, and I have."

There was another long moment of silence. Then Sophie sighed. "Well, if you believe it, I suppose I'll have to until an alternative presents itself."

Sam wasn't expecting a response remotely like that. "What?"

Sophie gestured to him. "You clearly believe what you're saying, and none of the explanations I've come up with make any more sense than yours. 'When you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable...'"

"'...must be the truth,'" Sam finished.

"I wouldn't go that far," Sophie said. "And I don't think you should tell this objectively ridiculous story to any of the others."

"I understand," Sam said, feeling a bit giddy that someone knew the truth about him. He'd wondered if anyone other than people who could see the real him would ever think he wasn't who he pretended to be, but now that Sophie had, he was surprised to feel almost happy about it.

"The only question left is, can we trust you?" Sophie asked. "We generally trust Nate, but as you've said, you're not Nate."

Sam had the feeling that what he said in this moment would affect how the rest of the leap went, and maybe even whether or not he'd be able to accomplish what he was supposed to. "I'm not here to get in your way. I'm only here to help." He hoped she could see that he meant what he was saying.

She seemed to. "Well, you're very sincere. We can use that."

"Use it? For what?"

Sophie ignored his question, gesturing to the door. "Let's go back inside. Any longer and they'll think I've stolen you."

Sam laughed, hoping that was supposed to be a joke. He wondered exactly how much longer it was going to be before Al got here.


	4. Chapter 4

Nate hadn't been in what he was calling the Blue Room all that long, but he'd already learned a few things. The most recent thing he'd learned was that his attempts to take charge of his situation had completely disorganized the Blue Room.

Dr. Beeks had put Nate through a battery of tests, everything from eye-hand coordination to reasoning. Whoever Ziggy was, they were still searching through past leaps, whatever that meant, and every time Dr. Beeks asked Gooshie if he'd found Sam yet, Gooshie shook his head. So Sam was missing. Otherwise, various people Nate hadn't met were running around, nothing seemed to be working particularly well, and Nate sat at the center of the chaos, waiting for the moment when everything would make sense.

A man with one of the loudest jackets Nate had ever seen came striding into the room. Seriously, the jacket was shiny, with some kind of holographic pattern on it that appeared to change color when the man moved. Nate had pretended to be a fashion designer once and even he didn't know what kind of textile that jacket was made of. 

"It's 4 in the morning,” the man in the jacket said. "Haven't you found him yet?"

Dr. Beeks crossed to the man in the jacket, glancing at Nate as though she were measuring the likelihood of him eavesdropping. Nate pretended not to notice. "We've run into some complicating factors."

"Complicating factors? What the hell does that mean?" the man asked, producing a cigar from his jacket pocket.

Gooshie had asked if they should get Al not long after Nate had awakened in this room. Since the only other person Nate could put a name to who hadn't shown up so far was Sam, who was missing, Nate was betting the man in the incredibly unlikely jacket was Al. Time for step two.

"Al?" Nate asked.

Dr. Beeks and the man in the jacket, who was definitely Al, stopped mid-conversation and turned in surprise.

Al crossed to Nate, looking at him intently. "You know me?"

"I don't know," Nate said, doing his best to seem confused. "Maybe."

Al looked at Nate as though he were studying him, and then he nodded. "I think I know what's happening here."

"I'm glad somebody does," Nate said. Finally he was going to get some kind of explanation for all this.

"It happened the first time you leaped too," Al said. "Your brain got so swiss-cheesed you didn't know your own name." He smiled. "You're back, aren't you, Sam?"

That was the opposite of an explanation. How could Al mistake Nate for a person he knew? Even if Sam and Nate did look identical, and Nate didn't see how they could, how could amnesia point to Nate being Sam? Apparently both Sam and Nate had leaped, but Nate was no closer to figuring out what leaping was, and his head was starting to ache from trying to make a coherent whole out of the tiny slivers of information he had. This was like living in the middle of an episode of Twin Peaks.

"It's okay," Al said, taking Nate's silence as agreement. "I know you don't remember. Here, come with me." He gestured for Nate to follow him to the mirror in the corner of the room. Nate did, not sure what this was about. 

Al gestured to the mirror with the hand holding his cigar. "There. That's you."

Nate turned to face the mirror. He could see Al's reflection in the mirror, but who was the guy standing next to him? Dark hair, streak of white in the front, younger than Nate. Al gave Nate a friendly pat on the back, but in the reflection, it looked like Al was patting that other guy's back. Weird, because there was nobody else standing next to Al.

Oh no. No no no no no.

Nate took a step toward the mirror and so did the other guy. Nate touched his nose, and so did the other guy. Nate looked down at his arm, and his arm still looked like his arm, but when he looked in the mirror, the other guy's gaze met his, and he could see the reflection of the other guy's arm, which looked nothing like his arm.

"I'm not surprised you're surprised," Al said. "You haven't looked like yourself in a while."

That was ridiculous. Nate had always looked like himself. Who else would he look like?

He met the eyes of the reflection again. Brown eyes. His eyes were blue. At least, they should be blue. What was this? What was happening?

“You okay?” Al asked sympathetically.

Nate had lived through a lot of unlikely things, but never anything so completely disorienting. His mind was running in overdrive, proposing and discarding potential explanations one after the other. Psychological conditioning? Hypnosis? Trick mirror with Al’s identical twin? What could explain this? What could possibly explain this?

“Let me think,” he said, watching his reflection’s mouth move. “I have to think.”

“Sure,” Al said, giving him another pat on the back. “I’ll be catching up with Dr. Beeks if you need me.”

Nate looked at his reflection again. Same person. Same definitely-not-Nate person. 

If that was what Sam looked like, he appeared to be about three steps away from a panic attack.


	5. Chapter 5

By the end of the day, Sam had finally been able to figure out everyone's names--Parker, Hardison, Eliot, Sophie. And he was Nate, for now. He couldn't keep track of how many times he'd leaped, but he thought that if Al hadn't always called him Sam, he probably would've forgotten his real name by this point. That was one of the most disconcerting things about leaping, learning to answer to a new name every time. He was better at it than he used to be, but he still had to pretend he'd been distracted once in a while when he forgot to respond to an unfamiliar name.

Sophie had kept her attention on him, saying nothing but watching him carefully. Sam didn't mind; if he'd shown her anything, it was probably that he didn't know what he was doing. But she was the only one who seemed to know that. As far as Sam could tell, the others took him at face value. After all, who would believe that someone you knew looked exactly the same but had been replaced by someone else? It wasn't the most believable story. Sam wasn't entirely sure why Sophie had believed it.

As far as Sam had been able to determine from the afternoon planning session they'd held, Nate, Parker, Hardison, Eliot, and Sophie made up a Robin Hood-type organization that got some sort of revenge on people who took advantage of others. Apparently Nate was the one who usually came up with the plans, but upon their return to the room, Sophie had announced that she'd asked Nate for the chance to plan this con, and he'd agreed. Sam hadn't contradicted her, especially after the warning look she'd given him. He didn't know yet if he could trust Sophie, but he got the feeling that Nate did, and that would have to be enough.

It felt strange planning something fraudulent and vaguely criminal, like the opposite of what he'd normally do. But in the absence of any additional information, Sam had to believe what the people around him believed--that they were doing this for a good reason. He just hoped he wasn't contributing to the bad future he was trying to prevent.

Of course, what that potential bad future was would've been a lot clearer if Al had shown up.

Sam was trying not to panic, but this was the longest he'd ever gone on a leap without Al. He usually appeared right away to fill in pertinent information--who Sam was supposed to be, what his job was, who the people around him were, and what Ziggy thought he was supposed to do. Today had shown Sam that he could figure out some of those things if he had to, but others remained stubbornly unknown. What if something terrible and unpredictable was going to happen to one of the people around Sam, or to Nate himself? If Sam didn't know it was coming, he couldn't prevent it. He was just as helpless and unaware of the future as Nate would've been in the same situation. He supposed it was possible that, by being himself instead of Nate, he could change the future for the better, but if that was true, why hadn't Al told him that? 

Where was Al? Surely if he'd been sick, somebody else would've come into the imaging chamber and told Sam what was happening. Had there been a power outage that was keeping them from contacting him? Sam could imagine all sorts of reasons why he was stranded here without help, and he didn't like any of them.

Never mind. He'd have to respond to circumstances as they happened, and hope that whatever he did would be enough. He couldn't spend his time here second-guessing every decision. He'd faced challenges before, and would probably face more in the future. Or the past. Whenever he was.

That didn't make this moment any easier, though.


	6. Chapter 6

It felt like an hour that Nate sat thinking in front of the mirror, although probably it wasn't. The first thing he'd done had been to subtly check his reflection in a few other shiny surfaces in case the mirror was some kind of illusion, but no matter where he'd looked, the reflection he'd seen was always Sam's. Despite the fact that Nate didn't have a complete picture of what was going on, it seemed clear that he only looked like himself to himself. Everyone else saw the man Nate saw when he looked in the mirror, and that man was apparently Sam. Nate no longer questioned why Al had assumed he was Sam. Instead, he wondered why Al had taken so long to come to that conclusion. He'd apparently looked like Sam the whole time. What had changed?

He had changed. He had called Al by his name, showing some sign of recognizing him. Before that, no one had expected Nate to know anyone, or even to know where he was. He'd probably still looked like Sam, but no one had thought he was to start with.

And Gooshie and Dr. Beeks had implied there were others. They hadn't known who Nate was, but he wasn't the first person to experience this. They had a procedure in place to talk to people who woke up not knowing where they were or what they were doing there. If those other people had looked in the mirror, would they have seen Sam too? And if they had, what did that mean? A steady stream of people in a lab, all appearing to be Sam, all being asked to help Sam? Why wasn't Sam the one who looked like Sam? Where was he?

Nate had learned a long time ago that there was no taking back a decision you had made. If it was a mistake, you had to accept that and move forward from it. He'd decided to pretend not to remember who he was when he'd arrived in the Blue Room, and taking it back now wasn't an option. Al had assumed Nate was Sam, but also that Sam didn't remember anything because his memory was full of holes. So wasn't this the perfect time to ask a lot of questions and learn what was really going on? Al seemed happy to see Sam, so he probably wouldn't lie to him. Would he? Nate wished Sophie were here so she could give him her read on Al.

He turned away from the mirror to see what else was going on in the room. Gooshie was working at some kind of control panel, and Dr. Beeks and Al were still talking. Nate approached them.

"Dr. Beckett," Dr. Beeks said warmly. "How are you feeling?"

He was a doctor? Okay, fine, then he'd be a doctor. "I feel fine physically. Just a little confused." He turned his attention to Al. "I told Dr. Beeks I don't remember much of anything."

"That's normal," Al said. "Leaping around in time does a number on your memory."

Nate kept a pleasant smile on his face, nodding as his brain shrieked 'leaping around IN TIME?' at him. "I guess it does." So...Sam was a time traveler? This was some kind of time travel lab? Nate needed more details. "Can you tell me more about this place?"

Al smiled. "This is the headquarters for Project Quantum Leap. Your project."

Nate pretended to think, then shook his head. "It sounds familiar, but I don't remember exactly."

"You had a theory that, given the right conditions, a person could time travel within their own lifetime," Al said. "Project Quantum Leap is the result of all that work and research. And your theory was right. You did."

"I did," Nate repeated. "I time traveled?" Al had already said as much, but Nate needed to double-check this bizarre story.

"You sure did, all over the place. All over the time too." He paused, looking a little worried. "You don't remember any of it?"

"Just little flashes," Nate said. "Nothing big."

Al nodded. "When you were still leaping, it seemed like you kept some of your memories of past leaps, but maybe some of those memories stayed with the people you were. That makes sense. It would be tough for them to have a chunk of their lives they didn't remember."

Nate felt several steps behind. "The people I was?"

"Sure," Al said. "You leaped into other people's lives to fix things that went wrong for them."

Al had mentioned that Sam hadn't looked like himself for a long time, so Nate made an educated guess. "The mirror. I could see them in the mirror."

Al looked relieved that Nate remembered that much. "Right. And the person in the reflection was what everybody around you saw too. Well, almost everybody."

This was the most ludicrous story Nate had ever heard, and yet he'd seen Sam's reflection everywhere in place of his own. What explained that? "So if I was there, looking like them..."

"They were here, looking like you," Al filled in. "I don't mind telling you, that was weird. You know, watching somebody who looks like your best friend but definitely isn't."

Okay, so if Nate was here and looked like Sam, and Al's explanation was true, that meant that Sam was in Nate's time, looking like Nate, trying to fix something that was about to go wrong. "How did I know what to fix?"

"Ziggy always figured out part of it, and then I'd tell you what Ziggy came up with and you'd figure out the rest," Al said. "But you don't have to worry about that now. You're here!"

No, he wasn't. Well, he was, but he wasn't the him that Al thought he was. This...this was a huge mess. And if it was a mess here, Nate could only imagine what it was like back in his own life.

"Oh, boy," Nate said.


	7. Chapter 7

The first step of the con was the most straightforward.

"So here's the thing," Hardison had said in the planning session. "Colleges can't get more than 90% of their funding from student loans, even for-profit colleges. But Kingsfield's got this figured out. He owns Kingsfield Consulting, which is technically a separate company, and he feeds the profits from his consulting firm into Houseman College, making up the difference. So far it's working."

"Right," Sophie had said thoughtfully. "We need to find out more about Kingsfield Consulting. Parker, can you?"

"Piece of cake," Parker had said with a grin.

Sam only discovered that "Parker, can you" had been short for "Parker, can you break into Kingsfield Consulting and rob them of any important documents" when Parker stormed into the apartment, dropped a file folder on the kitchen table, and said irritably, "They barely even had a combination lock on the safe. Next time, give me something challenging to do!"

***

Sophie was next. She'd arranged to meet with Kingsfield as a prospective investor for Houseman College. Through the earbud Sophie had given him, Sam was able to listen in on the conversation.

"So," Sophie said, "I'll get right to the point." She was doing an accent that sounded a lot like Katharine Hepburn's. "You've got a successful local company and I'd like to be part of it."

Kingsfield chuckled. "I can understand why you would. You must know we brought in record-breaking profits last year."

"I do," Sophie said. "That's one of the reasons I'm so interested."

"And I'm sure your investment would be amply repaid," Kingsfield said. "What I'm not sure of is why you're meeting with me instead of simply buying company stock."

Sophie laughed. "I'm not meeting with you as a single investor. I'm meeting with you as a representative of Boleyn Bank."

Kingsfield was silent for a long moment. "The Bank is interested in investing?" 

"It is," Sophie said. "Provided you know a good thing when you see it."

"Ah," Kingsfield said. "In that case, I'd have to talk to my Board of Directors. I assume the level of the bank's investment would be...?"

"Significant," Sophie said. "I understand that you need time. Here's my card. Contact me when you're ready to talk."

"I certainly will," Kingsfield said, sounding a little dazed.

***

"Your turn," Sophie said to Sam, after removing both their earbuds and turning them off.

Sam gestured to the earbuds. "Why did you...?"

"Because I don't want the others to hear what I say to you," Sophie said. She handed him a pair of glasses. "Put these on."

Sam looked at the glasses. "I don't wear glasses."

"Neither does Nate. The lenses are flat," Sophie said.

Sam slipped on the glasses. They didn't change his vision at all. "Oh."

"You're nervous," Sophie said, "and that's good. You can use that. I've specifically got you doing this because your character is supposed to be nervous. All you have to do is be nervous enough about the future of the business that Kingsfield will want to fast-track his deal with the bank he thinks I represent. Your job is to get him to call me."

Sam nodded. "Okay." He had practice saying what needed to be said in any number of situations; that wasn't the issue. He still hadn't heard from Al, and was worried that what he was doing might lead to whatever went wrong.

Sophie gave Sam a long look. "You've run cons before, haven't you?"

Was pretending to be someone else a con? Probably. "Yes," Sam said. "And no."

Sophie shook her head. "I should've known better than to ask." She picked up her earbud. "Go on."

Sam turned on the earbud and returned it to his ear. "Okay. I'm going in." He picked up his attache case, took a deep breath, and headed for Kingsfield's office.

***

Kingsfield answered the door after one hesitant knock from Sam. "Yes?"

Sam's glasses were beginning to slide down his nose, so he pushed them back up. "Uh, Mr. Kingsfield? My name is Beckett. I'm an accountant for Kingsfield Consulting."

Kingsfield beamed, reaching out to give Sam an enthusiastic handshake. "Oh, you are! Have a seat." He gestured to the plain cloth chair across the desk from his own resplendent leather one. Sam suspected you could learn most of what you needed to know about Kingsfield from those two chairs. "How's the consulting business?"

"Well," Sam said, sliding into the chair and resting his attache case on his lap, "not very good, actually. We've had quite a dropoff in clients." He opened his case, taking out a file folder full of facts and figures that Hardison had created for him.

Kingsfield flipped through the papers in the folder, then went through them more slowly as their contents began to sink in. "But that's impossible. We were doing so well."

"Uh, yeah," Sam said, "well, there are a couple other consulting businesses that have been poaching our clients lately."

"Rattlesnakes," Kingsfield said, shaking his head. He looked at the figures again. "Wait." He looked at Sam. "Have you looked at these numbers?"

Sam frowned at him. "Why would I bring them to your attention if I hadn't--"

"Of course, of course," Kingsfield interrupted. "We're not going to make our ten percent."

Sam pretended not to understand. "I'm sorry?"

"Kingsfield Consulting is what keeps Houseman College a going concern," Kingsfield said. "There are laws about this sort of thing. Houseman College can't make all its money from student financial aid--at least ten percent of our money has to come from somewhere else. Kingsfield Consulting is the somewhere else."

Sam nodded slowly as though he was coming to understand. "And with the change in Kingsfield Consulting's earnings..."

"...we'll be in violation of federal law," Kingsfield said. "There will be lawsuits. Expensive lawsuits. Our cash cow stops giving milk."

"I feel terrible about that," Sam said, "but I'm not entirely sure what--"

"Best to avoid it all," Kingsfield said.

Sam didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean?"

Kingsfield shook his head. "We're going to have to file for bankruptcy. Shut Houseman College down completely."

Oh, no. "But--but sir, what about the students? There are students enrolled in Houseman College right now."

"And their money's not going to be worth a damn if the lawyers take it all," Kingsfield said. "I'm calling my bankruptcy attorney to arrange a meeting as soon as I can get one."

"Nate, talk him out of it," Hardison said, his voice coming loudly enough through the earbud that it almost made Sam jump. "If he files for bankruptcy, that means either the business gets sold for parts or reorganized to pay its creditors." 

"Not only that," Parker added, "there'll be a stay on the business, which means nobody can bring a lawsuit against the college or Kingsfield. It'll be that much harder to get to his money."

"How do you know that?" Eliot asked.

"I thought everyone knew about bankruptcy proceedings," Parker said.

This was it, Sam was sure. This was what he was here to change. In the original timeline, Kingsfield must have successfully filed for bankruptcy. But what could Sam do to change that?

"I have another idea," Sam said.

Kingsfield paused, looking at Sam. "Well?"

"What about new investors?" Sam asked. "Not in Houseman College, but in Kingsfield Consulting. If you can get a new infusion of money, maybe that will keep the company solvent for another year."

But Kingsfield was already shaking his head. "That'll only slow down the problem, not stop it. No, what this company needs is to file for bankruptcy as soon as possible, before we get into trouble."

Sam tried again. "I really think we could--"

"Never mind. Just get out of there," Sophie said. "We need to regroup, work out a new plan."

Sam nodded. "Okay."

Kingsfield looked at him warily. "Okay?"

Great. Even without Al, Sam ended up talking to himself in front of other people. "Okay...if filing for bankruptcy is what you have to do."

"It is," Kingsfield said. "So unless there's something else...?"

Sam shook his head. "No. I'll just--" He picked up his folder. "--be going. Thank you."

"No, thank you," Kingsfield said. "You've saved me a lot of trouble."

That was just what Sam was afraid of.


	8. Chapter 8

Nate didn't object to staying in a lab on principle. He just wished that he didn't feel quite so much like an object of study. Dr. Beeks ran test after test on him--memory tests, personality tests, every kind of test Nate knew of and a few he didn't. He tried to give bland, inoffensive answers, in part because he didn't know enough about Sam to give the answers he would've given.

Al was apologetic about the delay. "We'll get you home as soon as we can, Sam. It's just that you've never been back in your own body before. We want to make sure we know what leaping does to people."

"I understand," Nate said.

Al nodded, looking like he didn't know quite what to say. "Anything else come back to you yet?"

Nate was beginning to hate lying to Al, who was only trying to help his friend. He knew it would be more ethical to admit to Al what he'd done, but he wasn't sure Al would understand his reasons, especially now that Nate had kept up the con of being Sam for so long. "I'm not sure. Maybe." He shrugged. "It's all a little confusing."

Al nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, I bet. Ziggy always helped me know when and where I was, and then I told you, but I can't imagine putting together those memories from all across time. Especially when you don't remember much anyway." He sat beside Nate. "If it makes you feel any better, it was this bad when you started leaping too."

"You said that before," Nate said. "My first...leap...really mixed me up this much?"

Al nodded. "You didn't remember the project. You didn't remember who I was or who you were. Pretty much the only thing you remembered was that you weren't the guy everybody around you thought you were."

Nate had muddled his way through any number of difficult situations, but the idea of doing it without his memory was horrifying. "You helped me."

"Well, I tried," Al said. "You didn't need much help anyway."

False modesty on Al's part, or self-deprecation? Nate wasn't sure. "If I was as badly off as you say I was, I'm sure that's not true."

Al smiled. "Thanks. You know, it's good having you back. I realized yesterday we haven't been in the same room for years."

It took a lot to make Nate feel guilty, but Al had managed it. "Yeah, I guess not."

"I think you'll like being back in your own time," Al said. "A lot's happened since you've been away."

"I'm sure it has," Nate said, wondering when exactly "his own time" was. There was technology in this lab that was like nothing Nate had ever seen. Was he in the future? And if he was, how was he going to fake his way through daily life? Technology changed quickly enough in Nate's time; Nate was sure Sam's time was no different. And Sam was supposed to be not only smart, but a scientist on the cutting edge; it would be wildly out of character for him to forget how things in his lab or his home worked. Nate's 'amnesia' couldn't last forever. 

Al lowered his voice. "And don't tell anyone I told you this, but Donna will be glad to see you too."

Donna. Sam's...wife? Girlfriend? Daughter? Oh, this was bad. Nate had pulled long cons before, but if he kept up this one, it would probably take the rest of his life. Not only that, if he wanted to be convincing in the role, he'd eventually have to become Sam Beckett and let go of Nate Ford for good. Nate didn't know if he could do that. He didn't know if he wanted to try either.

Gooshie appeared in the doorway. "Uh, Admiral Calavicci, can I talk to you?"

Al turned to look at Gooshie. "Can it wait?"

"Uh, no, sir, I don't think so," Gooshie said, looking nervous.

Al sighed. "I'll be back."

Nate nodded. "Okay."

True to his word, Al returned in a few moments with a stiffness to his posture that hadn't been there before.

Nate looked at him. "Everything okay?"

"As it turns out, Ziggy didn't find Sam in any past leaps," Al said pleasantly, "but Gooshie kept Ziggy looking for Sam anyway. On the off chance we'd missed something."

Nate could see where this was going, and he wasn't sure whether to feel worried or relieved. "Ziggy found him in my time."

Al didn't even dignify Nate's response with a nod, instead glaring at him. "I'm only going to ask once. Who the hell are you?"

"Nate Ford. Nice to meet you." He sighed. "I should probably explain a few things."


	9. Chapter 9

Hardison's van was a whirlwind of activity as the five of them tried to strategize what should happen next, now that their initial plan was no longer on the table. Sam tried to offer help at first, but since he didn't have the experience that the real Nate would have, he knew his suggestions weren't all that helpful. He decided to step out of the van to get some air. Parker, he noticed, was already there.

"Hi, Parker," he said. "I thought I'd give them a chance to talk things over."

Parker gave him a quizzical look. "Nate doesn't normally do that."

From context, Sam had figured out that Nate usually took a stronger leadership role in these cons, but he didn't feel comfortable doing that in a situation where, originally, something had gone wrong. He didn't trust himself to prevent it from going wrong again, not without Al's help or Ziggy's analysis of how things were likely to turn out. "Yeah, I know."

Wait. Parker had said "Nate doesn't normally do that." Not "You don't normally do that."

Sam turned to Parker. "I don't...look like Nate to you?"

Parker laughed. "Of course not! Nate is Nate. You're..." She gestured to him. "...this guy."

Sophie had figured out who Sam was on the basis of his behavior, but this was different. Parker had apparently seen Sam as himself all along. Sam seemed to remember that people had seen him as himself before, but it was rare. "You didn't say anything."

She shrugged. "Everybody wants to pretend you're Nate. I can pretend too."

Sam nodded, surprised. "Thank you."

Parker looked at the ground, her mouth twisting a little. "Will he come back?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "When I'm done here, he'll come back."

Parker nodded. "Then I'd better give this to you." She handed Sam a wallet.

Sam opened the wallet to find Nate's ID inside. "You stole my wallet?"

Parker scoffed. "You stole it first. It's not yours either."

She had a point. "That's true." Sam put the wallet in his pocket. "I promise not to use it unless I have to."

"Good," Parker said.

Sophie emerged from the van. "Everything all right?" 

"Everything's fine out here," Sam said. "How are things in there?"

"We've had to get creative," Sophie said, "but what else is new?"

Parker brightened. "Need me to do any more break-ins?"

"Not yet," Sophie said, "but I'll keep you posted." She gestured for them to join the rest of the team. "Come on."

***

Now it was Eliot's turn. Sam was beginning to understand why Nate's team used these earbuds; they could hear all the separate components of a plan and then adjust the plan based on what did or didn't happen.

"Mr. Kingsfield?" Eliot asked politely. "I'm your driver, sir. Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" Kingsfield sounded frazzled.

"Your meeting," Eliot said.

"I don't have any meetings this afternoon," Kingsfield said. "I'm in the middle of a very important call, so if you could--"

"Of course, sir," Eliot said, "but what do I tell the investors?"

There was a long pause from Kingsfield. "Hang on a minute, Larry," he said, apparently into the phone. Then, to Eliot, "What investors?"

"I don't know the details, sir, just that I’m driving you. I've had it on my calendar for a month. Maybe you could check yours?"

Sam could hear Kingsfield grumbling, and the click of keyboard keys. He looked at Hardison. "Will it be in his calendar?"

Hardison beamed. "In his calendar, like he put it in there a month ago. That's easy."

Sam nodded.

Kingsfield huffed a sigh. "Be that as it may, I really don't have time for a new investor meeting right now, so if you wouldn't mind leaving--"

"Of course, sir," Eliot said. "I don't have the photographers' contact information, but I assume you do, so--"

"Photographers?" Kingsfield said.

"Uh, yes, sir. My buddy’s driving them to the conference center.” 

Kingsfield sighed again. "Larry, I'm going to have to postpone our conversation. I've got a meeting with some new investors, and it'll be a PR nightmare if I don't show up."

"Hopefully it'll be a PR nightmare if you do," Parker said under her breath.

"All right," Kingsfield said. "Hopefully this can be done as quickly as possible."

"I'll get you there as soon as I can, sir," Eliot said, sounding nothing but respectful and deferential.

"Well done, Eliot," Sophie said. "All right, everyone. Let's steal an investor meeting."

***

As Sam and Sophie stood in the back of the almost full conference room, Sam adjusted the camera strap around his neck and said very quietly to Sophie, "What if he recognizes us when he gets here?"

"He won't," Sophie said. "He'll be up there and the lights on the dais are angled such that he won't be able to see much of anything. And if you think he's looking in your direction, you can pick up your camera and take pictures. The reason we have such bulky cameras are so we can use them to block our faces."

Kingsfield chose this moment to come striding through the doors, the very image of a confident businessman. Eliot followed him in, taking a position at the back of the room next to Sam and Sophie.

"I apologize for my lateness," Kingsfield said, moving onto the dais. "But now that I'm here, we can get started. First, I want to welcome you to the Houseman College family. We've been a good investment for as long as we've been around, and we will continue to be for a very long time."

"Unbelievable," Eliot said. "He knows he's filing for bankruptcy, and he still says this garbage."

"Steady on," Sophie said. "It won't be long now."

"People ask me sometimes how I knew Houseman College would be profitable, and the answer is very simple," Kingsfield said. "Everyone wants a better life. Everyone wants hope for the future, and that is what we're selling our students. They pay us for the dream of a better life. In fact, the existence of federal student loans has allowed us to solve a mystery that has troubled investors and entrepreneurs for generations--how to make lots of money from people who don't have any." He chuckled affably, as though he was sharing a joke with everyone listening to him.

Sam thought it was probably lucky that the lights were shining in Kingsfield's eyes. Otherwise, he'd be able to see that his words weren't having the desired effect on the people in the room, whose expressions varied from disbelieving to concerned. All except Eliot, who looked as though he'd like nothing better than to run up on stage, tackle Kingsfield, and have some sort of physical altercation. Sam understood that impulse better than he would've liked to admit.

One of the people in the conference room spoke. "You mention that you're selling students hope for the future. How are the job placement rates at Houseman?"

"Oh, very positive," Kingsfield said warmly, basking in the approval he imagined he was getting. "I make sure of it."

The questioner frowned. "How do you do that?"

Kingsfield gave the questioner a pitying look, as though she couldn't possibly understand his brilliance. "It's very simple. All you have to do is come up with numbers that look good enough, that spell success to someone reading about your school."

"But you must have actual job placement numbers somewhere," said someone else.

"I'm sure we do," Kingsfield said. "But those numbers aren't what sells a Houseman education and makes all of us record-breaking profits. I don't think it's a surprise to any of you that sometimes you have to...give the numbers a little boost, shall we say?"

"That's fraud," Sophie called from the back of the room.

Kingsfield grimaced. "Fraud is such a strong word. I like to think of it as improving public relations."

Now there was murmuring in the audience, and quite a few looks of consternation. Kingsfield seemed to sense for the first time that he had lost his audience, but didn't quite seem to understand why. Sam, Sophie, and Eliot all exchanged satisfied looks. It was funny what you could accomplish when you used a "Houseman College Investment Meeting" sign to cover up an "Institute to Prevent Education Fraud" sign. Sam had to admire the poetry of it--Kingsfield had just admitted committing a crime to law enforcement, lawyers, and government investigators.

A member of the audience stood. "Well, Mr. Kingsfield, I head an education fraud task force, and I think my colleagues will be very interested to know what you've told us here today."

The moment where Kingsfield realized he was trapped was visible even from the back of the room. His eyes darted from place to place and person to person as he tried to figure out what to do. Then he panicked, nearly leaping from the dais and sprinting for the door. Two audience members grabbed him and held him by the arms, preventing him from leaving the room. 

Then Kingsfield caught sight of Sam, Sophie, and Eliot. "You!" he said, trying to break free from his captors. "You did this to me!"

Sam glanced at Sophie and Eliot, who were simply smiling at Kingsfield. Then he allowed himself a little schadenfreude and smiled at Kingsfield himself. Sophie turned to leave the room, with Sam and Eliot not far behind.

"I have to talk to my attorney!" Kingsfield shouted as the three of them left the room.

The head of the task force sounded amused. "I'm sure you do."

"I gotta return the car," Eliot said, heading for the car he'd driven Kingsfield in.

"I think that went well," Sophie said, giving Sam a satisfied smile.

Just then, a doorway of light slid open, and Al hurried through, holding his handlink. "Sam! You okay?"

"Uhh," Sam said, darting a glance at Sophie.

Sophie didn't even blink. "Let me guess. Your friend from the future who tells you what to do is here?"

"Yeah," Sam said sheepishly.

Al looked at Sophie, then at Sam, eyes wide. "You told her?"

"I had to," Sam said. "She can tell when I'm lying." 

"Should I leave you two alone, or provide cover so that it looks as though you're talking to me?" Sophie asked.

Al looked at Sophie for a minute, then at Sam. "Oh, she's good."

Sam shrugged at Sophie. "You can listen if you want, but hearing my side of things probably won't make much sense."

"I don't know," Sophie said. "I'm not bad at context clues." She inclined her head toward Al even though she couldn't see him. "Go on. I'll keep watch."

Sam turned to Al, lowering his voice. "Where have you been?"

Al looked aggrieved. "I would've been here sooner, but the nozzle in the waiting room pretended he was you."

Given what Sam knew about Nate, that wasn't all that surprising. "I think everything went okay, but I'm still not sure who I'm here to help."

Al pressed a few buttons on the handlink. "Ziggy says it's a whole bunch of whos."

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, in the original timeline, all the Houseman graduates did okay, courtesy of, uh--" Al gestured in Sophie's direction. "But Houseman College closed down because of this, and the students who were in the middle of their degree programs were stranded."

"So I'm not here to make sure the plan goes okay, or to save anybody's life," Sam said.

Al shook his head. "Nope. The plan went fine in the original timeline. The main thing is to help out those current Houseman College students."

Sam smiled. "I think we can do that."

Parker approached them. "What's taking you so long?" She glanced at Al. "Who's this guy?"

"You can see me?" Al said, aghast.

Sophie's eyes widened. "Parker, what do you mean, 'this guy'?"

Parker frowned at Al. "Of course." She turned to Sophie. "The guy with the jacket and the weird...what exactly is that?" She craned her neck to get a better look at the handlink. 

"It might take too long to explain," Al said.

“Whatever it is, I want one,” Parker said.

“Let me see if I understand this,” Sophie said. “Parker can see your friend Al? The hologram?”

“It looks that way,” Sam said. 

Parker looked up. “Hologram?” She swished her hand through Al’s image, eyes lighting at the effect. “Cool!”

“Hey, watch it!” Al said.

Sophie shook her head. “Much more of this and I’m bloody well going to retire.”

With everyone else subject to the chaos Sam had to manage every day, all Sam could do was laugh.


	10. Chapter 10

Nate hadn't expected to see Al again, so he was surprised when Al showed up in the lab with a grumpy look on his face.

"Is everybody okay?" Nate asked. Ever since Al had mentioned that Sam usually fixed things that had originally gone wrong, Nate had been running through all the possible things that could happen to him or to his team. There were an alarming number of possibilities. "Are they safe?"

Al seemed a little less grumpy at that question. "They're fine. Don't worry."

Nate let out a long breath. "Good. That's good."

"Though I could've been there to check on them sooner if you'd told me the truth," Al said.

Nate nodded, accepting Al's point. "I run cons for a living. At this point, it's not easy to take anything at face value."

Al seemed to think about that for a minute. "Yeah." He sighed. "I'll probably regret this, but do you want to come into the Imaging Chamber with me? Just to see how things turned out."

"I'm not sure what an imaging chamber is," Nate said, "but sure."

"I don't normally do this," Al said, pointing a threatening finger at Nate, "so behave yourself."

Nate held up his hands in a gesture meant to indicate that he was innocent. He was well aware that he and his team were still at the mercy of whatever Sam chose to do. Knowing that, he wasn't about to try anything with Al.

The door into the Imaging Chamber was interesting, like something out of Star Trek. The room itself was lit with an almost blinding light, and Nate squinted as he and Al stood before the open door.

"A couple ground rules," Al said. "They'll be able to see me, cause I've got the handlink, but they can't see you unless I'm touching you."

Nate frowned. "I thought you said only Sam could see you."

"Usually that's true," Al said. "This time, one of your team can see me, and another one figured out I was there."

"Sophie," Nate said with a smile. She was keenly sensitive to the ways of human interaction, so he knew she'd be able to infer the presence of Al, especially if Sam was talking to him when she was around. "But who could--"

"Parker," Al said.

Nate nodded thoughtfully. "And do we know how she could see you?"

"Not really," Al said. "It happens sometimes." He gestured to the door. "You ready?"

"Sure," Nate said, an expert by now at faking confidence in unexpected situations. Al stepped through the door, and Nate followed.

When the white light cleared, they were in Nate's apartment. Nate looked around. "How are we...?"

"It's a hologram," Al said.

Even though Nate had figured out that he was probably in the future, he hadn't expected to see anything quite this advanced. "Right."

Everyone was sitting on the couch--Sophie, Parker, Hardison, Eliot, and even Nate. Or Sam, probably, but given the appearing-like-someone-else thing that was going on with both of them, Nate could only see Sam as himself, which was incredibly weird. Since Sam couldn't see him anyway, Nate crossed to him, getting as close as he could. After all, how often did you get to look at yourself from the outside? Nate couldn't see any sign of what Sam looked like, no matter how close he got. As far as everyone else was concerned, this looked like Nate. Even Nate was almost convinced.

Parker had evidently noticed Al, and gave him a little wave, which Al returned. Sophie saw Parker wave, and for a moment, her gaze drifted to where Al was before she looked away again.

"Nice cover, Soph," Nate said, knowing she couldn't hear him but admiring her powers of observation anyway.

"There's just one thing that worries me," Sam said. Nate took an involuntary step back; Sam's voice even sounded like Nate's. That was bizarre.

Of course, Nate was learning a new definition of bizarre these days.

***

"There's just one thing that worries me," Sam said, trying to tie up every loose end. He knew Al was in the room, but he couldn't acknowledge his presence with this many people around. "Kingsfield's probably going to tell the investigators that Kingsfield Consulting is failing, but when they actually look into its accounts--"

"Oh, it's failing all right," Hardison said. "I figured it wouldn't hurt to be thorough, so I transferred all Kingsfield Consulting's assets to Houseman College graduates. There was plenty to go around." He mimed typing. "Plus I did a little digital magic so none of 'em have outstanding student loans anymore. They wanted a better life? They've got it."

"And all the students who were in the middle of earning their degrees at Houseman are now enrolled in a local community college," Sophie said, looking pleased.

Parker glanced at Sophie. "I thought part of the problem was that community colleges wouldn't accept credit from Houseman classes."

Eliot smiled. His smile was somehow even scarier than his scowl, Sam thought. "Normally they don't, but, uh, I had a little conversation with the registrar. They must've been feeling generous."

Sam had no doubt that Eliot could be very convincing when he wanted to be.

Al, who was standing off to the side of the room, waved a hand to get Sam's attention. When Sam looked over, Al looked to his side, reaching out his hand...and then Sam could see the person he'd been seeing in the mirror since this leap had begun. It was Nate--the real Nate. He gave Sam a nod of recognition, as if to say, "I see what you've done here." Sam nodded back.

"Hey, it's Nate!" Parker said.

Sam didn't answer. He was already surrounded by the bright blue haze that meant he'd done what he came to do, and would move on to another time and place.

He'd miss these people. But he always felt that way after a leap.


	11. Chapter 11

Nate could hear conversation even as the blue light cleared from his vision.

"Yeah, it's Nate. He's right over there," Hardison said.

"No, he was--never mind," Parker said.

A hand rested on Nate's shoulder, and Nate turned to find himself looking at Sophie. After spending however long it had been in a very blue lab, it was a big relief to be in a room with Sophie again.

"Are you all right?" Sophie asked, tone guarded.

Nate smiled. "It's good to see you."

Sophie's eyes widened, and she mouthed, "Nate?" Nate nodded.

"Nate!" Parker plopped down on the sofa next to him. "You're back!"

"Are we in the Twilight Zone or something?" Hardison asked. "'Hey, it's Nate, no, it isn't, welcome back'?"

"You're an optimist if you think you're gonna get an explanation," Eliot said wryly.

Parker handed Nate his wallet. "The other guy was no fun. He didn't even notice when I took it the second time."

"Thanks," Nate said, slipping the wallet into his pocket. He raised his voice. "I think we all deserve congratulations for pulling this job together."

Eliot raised his beer. "I'll drink to that."

Hardison raised his glass of orange soda. "Same here."

Nate looked at Sophie. "I take it you took the lead."

Sophie smiled at him. "I have my moments."

"More than a few," Nate agreed.

Sophie stood, gesturing for Nate to follow her into the kitchen. He stood, and Hardison, Eliot, and Parker crowded closer together, with Hardison describing a video game Nate had never heard of where you pretended to be a sushi chef. It all felt comfortingly normal.

Once they reached the kitchen, Sophie looked Nate up and down.

"What?" he asked.

She shook her head. "You look exactly the same as Sam did when he was you."

Nate nodded. "I guess that's how it works."

Sophie looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You know what happened?"

"Sort of," Nate said. "I was in the future for a few days. They explained some stuff."

"So there really was a Sam," Sophie said. 

"There really was," Nate said with a nod. "I guess he's gone into other people's lives too, not just mine."

Sophie looked pensive. "He left very suddenly."

"You're telling me," Nate said. "I was in the imaging chamber watching you guys and then I was here. Why, do you miss him?"

"No," Sophie said. "And I'm glad you're back. Only I did think we'd get a chance to say goodbye."

Nate shook his head. "I don't think he does goodbyes. From what Al tells me, he doesn't usually do hellos, either."

Sophie folded her arms. "Right. I'm going to need a full account of everything that happened."

Nate looked back at the sofa. "And you'll get one. Later." He looked back at Sophie. "Right now, I just want to enjoy being home."

"I can understand that," Sophie said. She gestured to the sofa. "We'd better get over there before Eliot starts describing culinary inaccuracies in Hardison's game."

"Oh yeah," Nate agreed.

Sophie took a step toward the couch, then turned back to give Nate a warm smile. "Welcome home."

"Thanks," Nate said, returning the smile.

Basking in the aftermath of a successful con was the best homecoming Nate could've asked for. He stood still for a moment, watching the other four. Then he headed over to join his team.


End file.
